Silence Isn't Always Golden

Last Friday my dad and I ventured down to Wareham to begin Phase 1 of the new deck project. Since it was such a nice day and the forecast for the next couple of days was not nearly as sunny we decided to take the opportunity to play a quick round at Little Harbor. I was really excited for my dad to see the place since I had been hyping it up so much the last couple of years. The round was going well and my father was playing very well for a guy who only tees it up once a year and was playing with a set of clubs that had been cobbled together from four or five sets, all of which were probably older than me. (You would think, given how often I go to the driving range I would be playing much better than my dad. Yeah, not so much.)

Everything was going great until we got to the split tees at #5 and #14. (Loyal readers may remember this is the same tee box I was on when the old ladies coming off of #13 yelled in the middle of my backswing that I should be on the far set of tees. This was something I was well aware of, as I was already on the far set of tees.) Anyway, my father and I were waiting to play #14 as a threesome was preparing to play #5. Our group was farther along, so my dad and I got to go first. I stepped to the tee and placed my ball, trying to concentrate on all the things I have been told to concentrate on: keeping my weight centered, my elbow straight, my grip from getting too tight. The problem was the threesome behind me was talking just loud enough to be distracting.

Now, I have said many times that professional golfers' insistence on working in complete silence is one of the things which make it very hard to defend golf as a real sport. After all, the ball is just sitting there, I don't know why they can't hit with some noise going on. Baseball players can get killed if a pitch hits them in the head, yet people are allowed to scream whatever they feel like at those guys. Well, allow me to say that I would prefer the yelling versus people talking just loud enough to be heard, but not loud enough to be understood. A yelling crowd would have been easier to block out compared to these three people discussing their dinner plans in a half-whisper. Still, I just kept my head down (never shooting them a dirty look or anything) and tried harder to focus on what I was doing. Then, it got worse.

You see, they then did the one thing I really didn't want them to do: they stopped talking. Because now I was acutely aware they had stopped talking and the silence became deafening. Also, without looking up I figured this probably meant they were watching me and if there is one thing I like less than people I don't know yelling in my backswing, it's people I don't know watching me tee off. Not surprisingly, I topped my drive, which went a grand total of 80 yards (and that's being generous) to the right and came to a stop under a tree. Meanwhile my father took a 3-wood that was actually made of wood and slapped it down the center of the fairway.

So, yes, I can see why professional golfers would find people talking to be distracting. However, I hardly found the total silence to be a much more comfortable situation. I think what they need is some kind of happy medium in which people can make all the noise they want, so long as they don't stop, because I think going from low-level talking to complete quiet is far more jarring. Or maybe I just need to get better at golf.